


Incoming Call

by RedTeamShark



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Author Chose Not To Tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2019-09-12 04:02:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16865779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedTeamShark/pseuds/RedTeamShark
Summary: Technology is a wonderful invention.





	Incoming Call

**Author's Note:**

> Proper warnings, tags, etc, may come in the future. For the time being I'm frantically transferring my content to a stable platform amidst growing concerns about tumblr's inevitable implosion.
> 
> Apologies for flooding the fandom page.

_Ring… ring… ring…_

The call connects with a small chime, Michael’s sleepy, smiling face greeting him. His hair is getting to that stage of ‘too long’ again but right now Ray thinks it looks amazing, ruffled and feathered out with bedhead and for a moment his heart speeds up, remembering the mornings waking up next to the man on his computer screen.

“Ugh, do you really have to call so early on a Saturday?” Michael questions in place of a greeting, a huff in his voice but a smile on his lips.

“Texas is only an hour behind New York, asshole. I know it’s noon there.”

“Does not change the fact that I just got out of bed.”

“Yeah, well, we’re even. I also just got out of bed.” He smiles, rolling his chair back from his computer, exposing that he’s only wearing a tank top and boxers. “Fair enough?”

Michael’s eyes move up and down appraisingly and it’s all he can do not to start blushing like a schoolgirl. “Well, it might be a little more fair if you took your shirt off… I mean…” The muffled sound of rustling sheets comes over his headphones as the computer screen becomes the ultimate shaky-cam. After a minute or so the picture steadies out, showing Michael laid on top of his sheets, wearing only a pair of lightweight pajama pants. His arms are behind his head, a smirk on his lips.

“Son of a bitch…” Ray whispers, his eyes roaming over the expanse of pale, exposed skin, his fingertips itching to touch again, lips tingling with remembered taste. “You know this only makes me want to be down there more, right?”

“I know. If I keep this up, you might come visit me.” The smirk grows into a full grin, though the look drops away when Ray stands, removing his headphones and pulling his tank top over his head. “Oh, you cheating fuck. No fair making me want to come see you.”

“Oh, get over it.” He smiles, taking a seat again and leaning back in his chair. His eyes are on the computer screen, watching Michael for every hint of reaction and again he’d glad he paid for the better quality headphones currently seated over his ears, glad he can hear every breath the other man takes. He slumps just slightly, leaning his elbow on his desk and his chin on his palm. “Miss you, though.”

“Lame.” Michael sticks his tongue out, sitting up and scooting to the end of his bed, sitting closer to his computer. “Miss you, too, I guess.”

“Damn well better, asshole.”

“You know what I miss most?” Michael’s voice drops low and an involuntary shiver passes through Ray, his eyes shooting over to his bedroom door, making sure it’s shut firmly. “I miss hearing you moan my name while I’m fucking you.”

“Michael…” He barely whispers the name, the hand holding his head up suddenly warm, sweaty.

“I miss the hickeys you leave on me.” He continues and for a moment Ray swears that he hears Michael’s breath hitch.

“Fuck, Michael. You know what I miss?” He swallows, hand not supporting his head dropping to rest on his thigh. “I miss waking you up with a handjob.” He decides, abruptly, that today is going to be the day they actually do this whole Skype sex idea they’ve been tossing back and forth. Today it’s not going to be talking dirty to each other and then disconnecting the call and masturbating in bed.

“Yeah, Ray? What if I said you did it this morning, just, y’know, with my hand as a surrogate?”

It takes him a moment to understand, but Ray’s eyes widen when he does, finally taking in the way Michael’s biting his lip, the flush on his cheeks. “You mean you’re—“

“Yeah. Fuck, just seeing you shirtless got me halfway there. What does that say about me?” Michael apparently is on the same page as him, also deciding that today’s the day to do it. At least he won’t have to worry about the other man not being into it and leaving him hanging.

“That I’m a sexy motherfucker.” Ray grins, letting his own hand drift over the front of his boxers. “I’m working my way up too, though.”

“Show me.” Michael hisses out the command, the motion of his arm becoming more obvious, a small moan leaving him. “I wanna see you, Ray.”

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” The New Yorker returns, slowly getting to his feet, pushing his boxers down his hips in an easy motion (which is a miracle and a half because his heart is racing with anticipation). He sees Michael doing the same on the screen, pajama pants falling down his hips and out of frame. There’s a pause, Ray’s entire monitor overtaken by a view of Michael’s cock (he resists the urge to take screen shots, reminding himself that he can get dick pics any time he wants to ask for them) as the other man adjusts something off-camera. After a moment Michael crawls onto the bed, stretching out on his back and wrapping a hand around his cock.

“Don’t get camera-shy, but I had to switch you to the big monitor.” He says with a soft laugh. Ray sits down again, rolling his chair back enough that he’s fully in the frame, stroking himself easily.

“That’s fine…” He mumbles, eyes roaming over Michael’s form; pale, naked, skin so soft that all he wants to do is feel him. “So, you want me to moan your name?”

“Fuck yeah, Ray…” Michael sighs, running his thumb over the head of his cock and moaning softly. “I wanna hear you cum, babe.”

Ray can’t help a slightly breathless laugh, his hand speeding up. “This early in the morning?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

“God, I wish you  _were_.” He swallows, sending a last glance towards his door and hoping the people in the other apartments don’t hear him, before tipping his head back and moaning, low and loud. “ _Michael_.”

Michael’s breath hitches in response and Ray locks his eyes on his screen, moving his hand quickly. He can see the way the other man’s chest is heaving to match the heavy breathing in his ear, the way his hand moves on his cock, every minute movement that he does that elicits an audible response in his ears. Ray spreads his own legs slightly, giving a better view for his camera and—more importantly—for Michael, stroking himself and moaning the other man’s name.

Across the country, Michael moans his name, head tipping back before jerking forward again, eyes locked on his monitor. “Fuck, Ray…” He whispers, hips rolling into the touch of his hand. “Y’know what I’d fuckin’ do to you if you were here?”

“Tell me, Michael… Tell me how you’d fuck me…” Ray shivers, watching him, one hand fumbling for the volume control on his headphones, turning it up. It’s almost like Michael’s whispering directly into his ear, the only thing lacking the warmth of his breath and body.

“I’d bend you over the bed. Put your ass in the air and—“ He moans, gritting his teeth and squeezing himself, apparently staving off orgasm. “I wouldn’t just fuck you, not right away. I’d finger you first, nice and slow, get you off on that. Fuck, I’d use my  _tongue_ , I’d  _taste_  you and then I’d kiss you and let you taste yourself.”

“ _Fuck_  Michael.” He hisses, hips jerking up into his hand. “I’ll spread myself open for you, show off like you like. Maybe we can even record it…”

“God, Ray… After you get off being fingered by me I’d fuck you. Nice and slow and deep while you’re bent over… fill you up with my cum, make you cum all over and—“ Again he groans, hips rolling into his hand, other hand clenching his bed. “ _Ray,_ holy shit—“

“You’d fuck me facing me, too, right? Put me on my back with my knees up by my head and go rough on me. Fuck me until we break the bed and I’ll leave scratches down your back and Michael, fucking hell,  _Michael_ , I’ll scream your name until I’m hoarse.” He’s close and he can see just how close Michael is, so he pushes forward, hand speeding up, taking the risk.

“Michael…” He whispers, watching the other man, hearing his whimper of pleasure. “I’m gonna cum soon, Michael. Gonna cum thinking about you fucking me. Are you gonna?”

“Y-yeah, I’m really close… oh, fuck, Ray… I wanna watch you cum, wanna see your face when you think about how hard I’m gonna fuck you the next time I see you.”

He’s happy to oblige the request, eyes still on the screen for as long as he can manage, breath heavy and interspersed with increasingly loud moans. He doesn’t intend to scream Michael’s name when he cums, but he meets the other man’s dark eyes through the computer screen, sees how desperately he’s holding off, how fucking  _into_  this he is (which is sort of amazing because Michael’s been the one disconnecting the call when things get too heavy, the one who’s apparently camera-shy), he loses it.

“ _Michael!_ ” Ray shouts, hips moving into his hand, lifting off his chair. He hears the responsive moan in his ears and forces his eyes open even as he rides out his orgasm, watches on the screen as Michael cums in his hand.

“Ray, holy fuck, Ray…” His name falls from Michael’s lips in a mantra, over and over as they both stroke themselves through orgasm. Finally, Michael’s hand falls away from his cock and he lies back in bed, breathing heavily. Ray leans back in his chair, eyes almost closed. “H-hell of a wake-up call…”

“Fuck, Michael…” He runs his unsoiled hand through his hair, scooting closer to the desk to clean up. “I’m going to fly down there as soon as I fucking can.”

Michael laughs, sitting up slowly, reaching to the floor for something to clean himself with. “I’m telling you, you should ask for a job with the company. I’m sure they’d hire you.”

“Maybe…” He bites his lip and thanks god when the subject is dropped in favor of a short break for the two of them to shower and get dressed.

“Hey, Ray…” Michael whispers as he sits in front of the computer, still naked but no longer showing himself to the camera.

“Yeah?” Ray wiggles into his boxers, looking over to his computer.

“Love you.”

He smiles, returning the brief hand-gesture that the two of them share, nodding. “Love you too, Michael.”

The call disconnects and Ray goes to shower, smile still on his lips. The wonders of technology, he thinks with a small laugh, ducking under the hot spray from the faucet. It still doesn’t beat being there in person, though.


End file.
